


Everything (That Shouldn't Be) Overheard

by onekisstotakewithme



Series: Swamp(y) Sex [2]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Hawkeye Pierce, Dream Sex, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/pseuds/onekisstotakewithme
Summary: "It’s all BJ’s fault that he’s lying here, wide awake, when he’s supposed to be dreaming of home. Instead, he’s shifting on a creaking cot, and praying that Beej won’t wake up."





	Everything (That Shouldn't Be) Overheard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Everything Overheard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670049) by [flootzavut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut). 



> thanks for letting me borrow some of your words (and giving your blessing for me to post this sorta-sequel) ♥♥ (I think the chickens will survive)  
> And everyone reading this should swing by and read "Everything Overheard" first, I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

_He shouldn’t be doing this._

To Hawkeye, it’s a familiar refrain. He’s had similar thoughts before doing stupid things, and Hawkeye Pierce practically majored in stupidity. Of all the things he’s done though, the stupidest (and best) was falling in love with BJ Hunnicutt.

And that has led to the recurrence of a phrase that he expects he’ll never retire. _I shouldn’t be doing this,_ he thinks, _this tent is too small and my feelings are too large, and what the hell do I do_ now _?_

It’s all BJ’s fault that he’s lying here, wide awake, when he’s supposed to be dreaming of home. Instead, he’s shifting on a creaking cot, and praying that Beej won’t wake up and catch him in the act.

 _Goddammit Beej._ It’s all his fault.

**_*_ **

In his dreams, Beej is tormenting him, his mouth hot against Hawkeye’s, hands roaming freely, and blazing hot against Hawk’s skin, and if BJ won Peg over just by kissing her, it doesn’t surprise him at all.

 _What are we doing?_ Hawk wonders even as a whine of pure need escapes him, Beej pressing kisses across his face and throat, and his eyes are glittering with mischief, and he’s exactly as devious as Hawkeye is, and clearly proud of himself for it.

“Beej,” he says, his voice hoarse, and in his dreams, Beej smiles down at him as he pulls away, in a possessive, _you’re mine_ kind of way, and Hawk can’t deny it: he finds that this smile weakens him at the knees, and he wants out of Beej’s grasp (however much his body hates the thought) but he can’t pull away, _he just can’t_. Because this is what he’s wanted for so very long, and Beej is his only on a temporary basis, but he’s _his_ all the same.  

BJ’s touch is heaven, a surgeon’s delicate touch, in delicate places, and Hawk can’t deny that he’s finding this shamefully attractive, and his hips buck involuntarily as Beej unbuckles his belt, and gives him a filthy look, and Hawk thinks _Oh God I’ve finally corrupted him,_ as he leans in, maddeningly slow, and-

_*_

He doesn’t know what wakes him, but he wakes up all the same in total darkness, and he’s so aroused, it’s painful.

It has been such a long time since he’s had such a dream, but the first time Beej has had a starring role, and as Hawk lies there in darkness, he prays to a God he isn’t sure he believes in that he hasn’t cried out, because what if Beej wakes up? At the same time, he can’t help but send a small bit of gratitude up with that same prayer, because _oh God_ he wouldn’t trade that dream for anything.

It’s like a single drop of rain in a drought; an absolute blessing, but hideously frustrating and frustratingly useless.

It leaves him with a silent tent, and a rather frustrating problem. Any one of his romantic liaisons will gladly kiss and tell that Hawkeye is rather loud, and though quiet he wishes to be, if he tries to keep completely silent tonight, he will probably bite through his lip, and won’t _that_ be fun to explain tomorrow?

 _Why do you have to be such a jackass?_ Hawkeye thinks furiously, glaring in the direction of Beej’s cot where the cause of Hawkeye’s misery sleeps unaware, but that only reminds him of the dream, and that frustrates him further, and if he wants a peaceful night, to go back to sleep and forget this whole thing, he’s… well.

Hawkeye Pierce is undeniably in love with and attracted to BJ Hunnicutt, and it’s both the one thing he clings on to, the one thing he knows, a truth like a well-worn baby blanket, and his greatest source of frustration, because he could _never_ do anything to ruin BJ’s life back in the States, couldn’t live with himself if he did. And he doesn’t do things by halves, so he can’t keep Beej at arm’s length either. He’s trapped between a rock and a hard place… make that a _very_ hard place.

After all, he’s only human.

_*_

He’s trying to keep quiet, but the image of Beej giving him a filthy look that promises equally filthy sex is burned into his brain.

_Hawk would never bring Beej to the supply room like any other liaison, because there has never been anyone quite like Beej. So instead they keep it to the Swamp, late at night, where they explore with hands instead of eyes, and it’s Beej who kisses him first, his mouth open to Hawk’s, and the pieces are falling into place and out of place, and Hawk’s brain is starting to ooze out his ears-_

A groan slips out, and he can’t help it, _Dammit Beej._

He can almost feel Beej pressing him into his cot, his hips firm and grinding against his, and Hawk is in heaven, and he’s trying not to whimper as he jerks off, and _yes,_ okay, he shouldn’t be doing this, but in for a penny in for pound. But the Beej in his fantasy who presses teasing kisses to Hawkeye’s face, and allows Hawk’s hands to roam all over his gentle giant, whimpers in his ear, and Hawk sighs, happy, because he’s made Beej happy- that much is evident.

And a quieter part of him murmurs “So _that’s_ what he sounds like.” The sigh turns into a moan, and he’s too close to care that the silence in the Swamp is not the same silence he woke up to, and he can’t place what’s different, but it doesn’t matter.

_Beej is whispering in his ear, his hands surprisingly tender and warm against Hawk’s skin, and his hands are shaking as they tug on Hawk’s fatigues, and as he pulls Hawk into another kiss, he embraces him, and they could be anyone here in the dark, where they have no names._

The noise he makes is one of needy want, and a bittersweet mixture of pleasure and pain, because Beej is his in this moment, but not really his, and yet this _feels so good,_ but Hawk knows deep down that this isn’t real, and it’s by his own hand that he suffers (in more than one way).

He’s close, he has to be, because Beej’s eyes are glittering again and his hands are working their magic, and Hawk understands the appeal of marrying him if this happens every night- “Ahh, ahh, ahh.” And his cot is creaking, and he cannot really have this, but it feels so _fucking good_ and dream Beej shatters before his eyes, and Hawkeye shatters along with him, a choked sob of need and distress and satisfaction clawing its way up his throat, and he can’t- “Oh Beej, oh God, _Beej._ ”

When he comes back to himself, he shakes his head into the darkness, because _Hawkeye Pierce you are an_ idiot, _what the hell are you doing?_ And yet… he laughs to himself. It feels more subdued, because all he can picture in the darkness is Beej’s face, and Beej’s hands and Beej’s name in his mouth, where it has no right being.

He settles down, and hopes to fall back asleep quickly, because he needs this rest so that he can look Beej in the eye tomorrow, knowing he can never tell him. How the hell would that conversation go? _Sleep well, Beej? How’s breakfast? I jerked off thinking about you last night. Slow week, isn’t it?_ Maybe he can sleep it off, and wake up refreshed and renewed, and not in love with Beej.

 _Fat chance, dimwit._ He laughs to himself again, and as his eyes sink shut, he starts to think, not of sex with Beej, but just the chance to hold him as close as humanly possible, wanting to just melt into him, both of them laughing and likely not sober, limbs intertwined, in the afterglow of making love- _Beej would never just have_ sex, Hawk thinks, smiling into the darkness. _He’s definitely the lovemaking type, and God, I wish-_

Taking a deep breath, he relaxes into the cot, and falls asleep, thinking of Beej, and how much he loves him and how grateful he is that Beej is still asleep.

Beej, who isn’t asleep, and has heard everything.

This tent is too small, and the confusing feelings too large, and it’s a wonder anyone sleeps in Korea tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I fell asleep the other night wondering exactly what Hawk's reason from "Everything Overheard" is *for* jerking off in the middle of the night, but... it led to this, a semi-sequel featuring some fun lines and a frustrated Hawkeye who is oblivious to how *loud* he's being.


End file.
